


You've Made Your Bed, Now Lie In It

by Freudianity



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Body Image, F/F, Fluff, Post-Sburb, Slice of Life, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freudianity/pseuds/Freudianity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calliope and Roxy make a life for themselves after the game. Also featuring Rose Lalonde's psychiatry and guest star Tamika Flynn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Made Your Bed, Now Lie In It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ErithacusRou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErithacusRou/gifts).



Back before the game, you always loved waking up in bed. The feeling of soft sheets wrapped around you meant that you were dreaming on Prospit. For a few hours you could soar through the sky, walk the endless streets of Prospit, take lunch with the Queen, gaze into the clouds. For a few hours, your brother was unimaginably distant, his presence nothing more than an occasional newspaper headline. For a few hours, you weren’t bound by the chain at your ankle.

Now, of course, you have a different reason to enjoy your bed. Said reason stirs slightly, shifting in your arms.

You never imagined ending up with a human. In your fantasies, Callie Ohpeee would find a troll like her, their chitin a smooth grey rather than your speckled green, and they’d throw themselves into the vibrant passions of the concupiscent quadrants, whether black or red; meanwhile, your biology insisted that the pathway to reproduction was through transformation into a colossal world-snake, and an encounter that blurred the lines between battle and mating. Circumstance, though, closed off any such doors - you wouldn’t find a partner, because your brother would never let you live.

But then, this is Roxy. Nothing about her was to be expected.

You feel the warmth of her skin against you (she’d reassured you that all humans were this hot, she wasn’t ill). You brush your fingers on her chest (you’ve spent hours listening to the beating of her heart) and trace the curve of her breast down to the nipple (“bulbous” is not a romantic word, you quickly learned), sinking the tips of your fingers lightly into the soft flesh (it feels impossibly vulnerable, but somehow human women survive).

“Honk honk,” Roxy mumbles, stretching in your embrace. You start to apologise but she bats vaguely at your face, and says “Save it, toots, no enda girls who’d love to get woken up by a beautiful dame coppin’ a feel.” She rolls to face you, and a dirty leer takes up its usual position on her face. “Enjoyin’ the show, sweetie? I know I was.”

Cherubs can’t blush (exhibiting weakness isn’t a good trait in an asocial species), but if they could, you would. Roxy guffaws. “I cannot believe you are STILL bashful about this. Shit, you’re just the cutest damn thing.” She pushes her face into yours and nuzzles you softly with her nose, before softly kissing your forehead and cheekplates (you learned early on that regular human kisses didn’t work quite right, but you feel you’ve worked around it successfully).

You pull her in tight so her whole body presses against you, and run a hand slowly down her spine, coming to a rest on the full swell of her cheeks. Her voice buzzes slightly against your skull, “You like that, honey?”

“Of course I do. It’s part of you,” you reply.

She kisses you on the bridge of your nose, which you both agreed should mean "I love you", and the day begins.

 

***

 

The two of you head into town. Roxy has a meeting with her publisher, and there’s a bookshop nearby you noticed last time you were there. Unfortunately, this will involve being seen in public with Roxy’s car, a neon pink convertible with the licence plate “ZAZZER1” and four different Complacency of the Learned bumper stickers. Every relationship involves compromise.

She screeches to a stop by the bookstore - the bobble-headed wizard nearly flies off the dashboard, and a somewhat rattled woman makes unpleasant gestures at the windscreen - and kisses your cheek-swirls before you get out. “Rock on, sweetpea!”, she yells as she speeds down the street, terrorising pedestrians.

The first thing you notice as you walk into the building is a lifesize cutout of Roxy and her co-author over a giant display of Complacency of the Learned books. The woman you nearly hit is just in front of you, and you see her do a double-take, and glance back at the door as her jaw drops. You do your best to hold in your laugh as you walk past to the book pile, where a young girl (probably ten or eleven.in human years) is thumbing through the first book in the series, _Midnight Scion of the Tower_. She turns to you as you walk up. No flinch, which surprises you; cherubs aren’t monsters in this world, but they’re not exactly common. Maybe this is progress.

“‘Scuse me, have you read any of these?”, she asks you.

“I have indeed. Are you interested in fantasy, miss...?”

“I’m Tamika, and I’m interested in all kinds of books, but… fantasy’s kinda my favourite. It lets you get out beyond all the stuff that’s real.”

“My name is Calliope, and I quite agree. That’s a very good way of putting it,” you reply. But she ducks her head a little. “Are you alright, Tamika?”

She lifts her head, and the gleam in her eye has faded a little. “Well, my brothers don’t think so. Tyler says it’s stupid fairy make-believe, and my big brother Troy says I’m too smart to be reading kids’ books and I’m wasting my time on it.”

Bloody brothers. “I take it you don’t feel the same way. Can you tell me why?”

She tilts her head and frowns in thought. “Well, I dunno… I guess that even when there’s magic and elves and princesses, it’s still about people? All books should be about how people are people, and it doesn’t stop being that just because the stuff around them is different.”

You fight the urge to applaud. “I think that’s the smartest thing I’ve heard in a long time,” you say, and she grins with pride. “I think these books would be very good for you, and if your brothers give you a hard time about them, just tell them what you told me.”

She thinks that over, and says, “Well maybe just Troy. With Tyler I usually throw something at him and he shuts up.” You nod in approval; this girl knows how to deal with brothers.

You hear a woman shout “Tamika?” Your companion rolls her eyes. “Mom”, she explains. “I’d better go, but thank you for the advice, Miss Calliope!”

“You’re very welcome. It’s been wonderful meeting you, and I hope you enjoy that book.” She beams at you before running off, and you can’t fight a big wide grin.

 

***

 

You’re still smiling when you meet Roxy and Rose, an hour later. The two Lalondes are happy to tell you that the movie deal is back on, and the issue with the screenplay writing out the queer romances and assigning all the roles to white men has been straightened out to their satisfaction [1]. Roxy has a meeting with the bank manager to get to, so you and Rose end up agreeing to a coffee date.

The two of you have never been especially close, so the first five minutes are slightly awkward, but after that you seem to find the rhythm of the conversation. The subject veers between disturbing fans (someone mailed Rose a beautifully-made doll of a skinned Frigglish), old friends (Equius and Nepeta are apparently in a wildlife conservation project, though Equius is in trouble for punching a rhino), old enemies (Rose’s investigators have confirmed beyond doubt that this world’s Betty Crocker is entirely terrestrial and also fictional, thank goodness) and, finally, to Roxy. Here you begin to stumble slightly, and your confidante is quick to pounce on this.

“I can’t imagine that there’s a problem between you two. I’ve seen the way you act, you’re disgustingly besotted with each other. You manage to be nauseatingly cute without even kissing.” You wince involuntarily, and Rose pauses. “Ah. Physicality.” You nod, glancing away.

There’s a silence for a few moments, before Rose says, “If this is something you really don’t feel comfortable talking about, I won’t pry further-”

“No, I suppose you would be the logical human to consult on the matter, being her…” You grope for a term.

“Sister-mother-daughter-twin-business-partner?” Rose suggests. You settle for that. “Fair enough. Go ahead, though I might ask in advance that any majorly graphic details be censored somewhat for your audience.”

“Are you familiar with cherub, um… relationships?”

“As I understand it, you’re sexually immature until one cherub predominates within the body; then, on adulthood, the only romantic feelings you can harbor are what our troll friends refer to as the spades quadrant. Antagonistic and violent sex in the forms of snake-like entities that could stretch from our planet to the sun.” She sips her coffee and adds, “I presume that, since there have been no confirmed sightings of astronomically-proportioned serpents - and I don’t see how one could keep that secret for very long - that you do not have sexual feelings for my sister.”

“Not… as such?”, you offer wretchedly. “I mean, I am aware of how it works for her, and I can appreciate the enjoyment in seeing your partner in that sort of… state” (Rose raises her eyebrows, but says nothing) “but… I can’t give that enjoyment to her. I’m not fulfilling my duties as a sexual partner. I don’t know, I’m explaining this awfully,” you conclude, slumping onto the table. You are a terrible person and don’t deserve your wonderful girlfriend, and really don’t deserve this lovely cup of Special Stardust Slushie. It will go unsipped henceforth.

Rose appears to ponder this for a few seconds. “Strider-Lalondes are a rather predictable group. If you leave us together in a conversation, before long the matter will inexorably be dragged towards sexual matters. It’s a symptom of our shared family psychological issues, in my opinion, to make constant jokes to each other about how amazing and graphic our sex life is, mainly to hide how terrified we are of it. Dave is the most frequent offender, and he’s with Terezi, and in the middle of a crash course on pegging and relearning his skills with oral sex entirely. My intimate relations with Kanaya are…” She makes vague and worrying hand gestures. “Similar, but rather different. And Dirk is-”

“Dirk is Dirk,” you interject. You had a camera into his room during his adolescence. You learned to turn it off unless you had permission.

“Quite,” Rose agrees. “And while we’re all using humour as a shield for our sexual woes and frustrations, do you know what Roxy does? She sits back and smirks like the smug little fucker she is, because she is entirely satisfied with her sex life and doesn’t need to hide it in jokes. Do you understand me here?”

You sit up and blink. “You mean she-”

“She likes it. She is completely happy with it. She is ecstatic with whatever you are doing in there, and I would hope to the gods if they weren’t us that you keep doing it, because she is happier than she has ever been.”

Roxy walks up to the table at that moment, and Rose waggles her eyebrows. You smile innocently. Roxy doesn’t notice.

 

***

 

You and Roxy return home without causing a traffic incident. It’s been pretty hot in the midday sun, and when you suggest running Roxy a bath she gives no complaints. You give none in return when she invites you to join, especially when she suggests bubble bath.

You remember you were terrified to strip in front of her when you first started dating. You’ve since been reassured that this is perfectly normal, but you don’t see how it can be - you were sure that your body would only disappoint her, even if she wasn’t disgusted. Weren’t human relationships meant to be physical in nature? When she saw you, surely she’d realise that physical relationships would be out of the question. It’s basic biology.

But eventually you worked up the courage to open yourself up to her judgement. To your shock, she didn’t react with dismay or revulsion, or even surprise. More of a… critical examination, scouring your body with her gaze, followed by a decision that this was something she could work with. Which she then set about proving to her satisfaction. Multiple times that night.

Admittedly, you weren’t entirely prepared for her body. Rose’s book of lore didn’t provide anatomical diagrams, and you hadn’t been particularly inclined to spy on the humans to that degree. But there were more… lumps than you were expecting? And what on earth was that meant to be-

-ah, that’s what it does. Luckily you had a patient and enthusiastic teacher, and it didn’t take long to get the hang of things.

You turn the taps off, both undressed, and you step into the bathtub. The first time you tried this, it was in a much smaller tub, and it was an altogether more awkward affair. A visit to Home Depot was arranged the next day, and a more accommodating bathtub was found.

You gesture Roxy in, and she climbs gingerly into the tub before sinking into your arms. Her hair fans and spreads where it hits the water, and when she raises her head it’s darker and shinier. You spread your arms around her body, scooping some of the foam onto her breasts. She scoffs, “Oi, that’s not what they’re for, assmuncher”, flicking some of it at your face.

“Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart. I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you”, you reply, just before nibbling on the edge of her neck. She gasps, and exhales as you smooth the foam from around her nipples. You stroke the left as gently as you can, and are rewarded with her body tensing against you. “My goodness, you ARE worked up tonight.”

“I’ve been- thinking about this since this- morning”, she says, her breathing a little ragged. “Keep- keep doin’ whatcha doin’.” You run a finger down her midriff, taking your time in the region below her navel - a fun area for her, apparently, that draws more groans from her.. As your finger works its way slowly down to between her legs, you flick your tongue gently against her throat, getting a full-body shudder.

Your hand finally reaches its destination, and your fingers make their way between her wet lips. You work her clit with one as another dives inside her - Roxy has often been extremely thankful for the surprising dexterity of cherub digits - and she lets out a sound almost like a mewl. You begin slowly, but build up a rhythm, and whisper soothingly in her ear as you work her up. You can feel when she’s reaching her climax, and when it comes she lets out a stuttered gasp and elbows you in the fucking face.

“Bloody HELL-”

“Omfg Callie I’m sorry I’m- I’m so sorry - are you okay?” She tries to turn round but ends up falling in and splashing water over the waiting towels. You burst out laughing and nearly fall in yourself, before you help Roxy up and out of the bath.

You aren’t bleeding, thank goodness, and you reassure Roxy that you’re okay and you know she didn’t mean it and that you’re just too good at sex. This last one she rolls her eyes at, but the guilt is mostly assuaged.

As she towels you down, you say, "You ARE happy, then."

She stops and blinks confusedly.  "What the hell are you yammering on about?"

"For a while now I've been worried that you... that is to say, that your needs..."

"That you thought you weren't giving me the lovings I deserve as a babe?", she completes. You make a face. (You are always making a face.) "You are such a moron." She rests her hand on your cheek. "I know you don't get things the same way I do around those parts. You give me what I need, you give me what I want, you give me WAY more'n I deserve... Are you getting what YOU need out of it?"

"Of course I am. I have you."

She kisses you on the bridge of your nose, and you grin together. “Speaking of giving me more than I deserve...”

 

[1] Dear reader, this is a work of fiction.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was something of a challenge, but I'm really glad I picked it!


End file.
